Our encounters as incredible and as desperate as they may be must not be allowed to burn out quickly like a small candle light. It must burn continuously sustained by our relentless love and desire to last more than just the night.

Our encounters as incredible and as desperate as they may be must not be allowed to burn out quickly like a small candle light. It must burn continuously sustained by our relentless love and desire to last more than just the night.

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Submitted: March 16, 2016

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Content

Submitted: March 16, 2016

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Chloe laid waiting for a knock on the door, her small frame dressed in tight leather straps, sprawled across the bed. She peered through the open door of her bedroom and kept her eyes on the front
door to her small flat. The room was aglow with candle light. The warm aroma of exotic spice filled the room. The silky velvety red bed sheet ruffled up by Chloe's movements formed thick elegant
folds that encased her profile like the overlapping petals of a rose bud. The clock ticked on and with every passing minute her temperature rose. Her heartbeat was near humming pace. Her earlobes
even throbbed. Eager twitching hands paced themselves by gently stroking her outer thigh. Her mouth salivated and she bit her lips to contain the excitement. Waiting was the part she both loved and
loathed. Only Brock could have brought her to such a state. The clock struck nine and a wave of excitement washed over Chloe. With the first knock she held her breath and with the second she rose
planting her hands and knees into the mattress. Her back faced the door and her eyes focused on the endless red below her. She remembered her training well. Her eyes closed with the final knock and
she relaxed her back, posturing her exposed lower cheeks upwards. Brock's stealthily opened the door with his key. There would be no further warning for Chloe. She was ready for her sixth lesson
and he was the ever prepared teacher.